


Glass Wall

by Decisnotonchairs



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Greg is an understanding boyfriend, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Mycroft Feels, POV Greg Lestrade, Poor Mycroft, Protective Greg, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Slightly after and during Season 4, kinda slow burn, season 4 angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 03:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19123426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decisnotonchairs/pseuds/Decisnotonchairs
Summary: Mycroft Holmes isn't the emotionless Ice Man everyone sees. He has his own moments of breaking down, of fear, of...sadness. A great deal of it, too.For example, being locked in Eurus' old cell brought all of those feelings out and surfaced, unable to hold any of it back. He was found, in a corner, fear in his eyes and tears staining his cheek and shirt sleeves, by Greg Lestrade.After Sherlock asking the DI to look after Mycroft...a great deal of events happened.





	Glass Wall

It was a slightly terrifying moment while searching for the older Holmes. I had gone alone to look for him, since a team of police and S.W.A.T. members might be a little too much after everything that just occured. I didn't expect to see Mycroft huddled in a corner, however, his face buried in his hands. I opened the cell and gently, slowly went over to the man, kneeling in front of him.

"Mycroft," I said in a soft voice. He looked up, his eyes brimming with fear. I felt a pang in my heart at the sight of it, not sure of what he'd just gone through. Obviously, it wasn't exactly something one can easily recover from. But, despite the fact that I'd seen the look, Mycroft blinked and the fear was gone. I didn't want to rush him, since that wouldn't be right to do either.

"Can...Can we leave?" He finally asked in a whisper. I nodded, offering a hand to the slightly taller man. He took it- and he had a tight grip. I wondered if it was from that fear I saw, or if it was related to the tear streaks on his cheeks. I didn't comment on them, and acted as if they weren't there. 

I lead the older out of the building and didn't leave his side until I knew he was safe and taken care of. I made my way over to Sherlock, and majority of the conversation became a blur until he asked me something I was already planning on doing; looking after Mycroft.


End file.
